Diving into Solitude

For a marine biologist and conservationist, this phase of social distancing is a time of learning and rediscovery. NAYANTARA JAIN tells us why she chose diving, the ultimate form of isolation, as a lifestyle, and what we can all learn from stillness.

- NAYANTARA JAIN

NO MAN IS AN ISLAND, wrote a solemn John Donne 400 years ago, to remind us all of our interconnectedness, to highlight our predominantly social selves, to urge us to pay cognisance to the fact that our pain is shared, that we rely on companionship and the comfort of others, that loss resonates, that happiness spreads. And so too, we are ruthlessly reminded today, does a virus. And to this microscopic virus—less than a millionth of a metre long—we must give two metres of space. We must lock ourselves in our homes, stay off the streets, stay out of the world, and wash our hands repeatedly. We mustn’t touch our faces. We mustn’t hug our friends. We must all become the islands that we fundamentally are not—and it’s driving everyone crazy.

While I must admit that I am going a bit crazy too, I realise now why people looked at me the way they did when, 10 years ago, I chose a life that involved living on a small island with no phone coverage or internet, miles and miles away from friends and family and almost all of the basic infrastructure like restaurants, malls, theatres, and bars that we’ve just realised how dependent we are on. As I enter forced isolation, to do my part in saving the world, I look back at my years of voluntary isolation and the journeys—both inner and outer—that saved my soul.